


Turn Time Off

by ellabell



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellabell/pseuds/ellabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I put this up on tumblr for Valentine's Day. Just a bit of fluff, Bering and Wells style.  </p><p>"She held on to the hope that the current pace of their retrievals couldn't continue forever, that she just had to make it through to when they could be together again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Time Off

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Turn Time Off by David Myles, who I saw in concert last Tuesday. (He was REALLY GOOD.) Thank you to typey for the fast beta, and generally making me a better writer. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

She remembered Myka telling her of a time when the pings only came on a weekly basis for Warehouse 13, when there were no long-term villains or mysteries that spanned months.  Leena had told her that before Pete and Myka, Artie had been able to deal with all the pings on his own for a while.  Artie had mentioned that there had once been three years without the need for a snag.

Helena yearned for times like those.

Sometimes she wondered if artefacts could sense that there was an extremely capable group at the Warehouse, and so acted out more frequently while there were more agents to protect humanity.  Sometimes she wondered if it was just one of the great truths of the universe, that the more she wanted a quiet night in, the busier she was.

Because she was exhausted; they _all_ were exhausted.  And Helena wanted nothing more than to take a single night off, travel back to the B &B, and slide into her lover's arms.  Of course, that would require _her_ to have a night off as well.

But the pings were going off at an alarming rate, and the agents were being pulled in different directions.  They had been for the past six weeks.  It was lucky if any of them had been on the same continent, only occasionally meeting up in airports before handing off artefacts for depositing safely in the Warehouse.  They weren't even able to each make the trip back, and for the second time, Helena had to get replacement gloves and static bags sent in advance to the next city on her list.

She had only seen Myka once – a glorious thirty minutes when they were both in the Amsterdam airport before Myka headed to Africa and she headed to Scotland.  And while they were able to talk often over Farnsworth and text, it just wasn't the same as being able to bury her face in Myka's unruly curls, being allowed to inhale her scent, feeling Myka's arms squeeze tight around her, and then – and only then – finally letting their lips touch softly, thankfulness for the stolen moment and the desperate need to be sure she was actually there superseding any sexual desires.

Not that they hadn't felt those too, but they had far too short of a window, and both pings were far too dangerous for them to delay their flights.

That had been two weeks ago, and she was now once again grasping at the memory, _any_ memory of Myka, really, that might help stave off the fatigue and the... the _want_.

She held on to the hope that the current pace of their retrievals couldn't continue forever, that she just had to make it through to when they could be together again.

Helena sank into her bed in Rome.  She had already handed off her artefact to Abigail, who was now doing pick-ups for them, too.  Helena was only Italy until morning, when she would then follow another ping to Greece, and who knows where from there.  She could only hope that their schedules would bring them together again soon.  And though it was only just growing dark, she fell asleep to the soft oranges and pinks making their way through her window.

***

Helena’s instincts alerted her to a change in the hotel room and she woke, sure that something was different but most definitely not afraid. The scent and movements of the other person were far too familiar to cause Helena any alarm.

She opened her eyes, not needing to move in her cocoon in the sheets to catch her girlfriend shucking her boots and then still doing her due diligence as an agent. Myka was unaware that Helena was watching.  She was placing a full static bag into the hotel room safe, and Helena's eyes were tracking her every movement, from taking off her holster to making sure that the Tesla was properly safeguarded, and was enjoying every moment of it.

Myka glanced back over at her as if by reflex, and Helena couldn't contain a sleepy smile, or the words that she felt deep inside.  "Even in this dark room, your eyes are still shining brighter than all the stars above."

"Writer," she said with a scoff, but Helena could hear the smile behind it as she made her way over to the bed to offer a soft kiss.  She hovered there for a moment whispering, "I've been chasing this artefact for 24 hours straight, so I'm going to shower first, okay?"

But Helena pulled her down again, capturing her lips, and not letting her go until she felt Myka sink in to the kiss – and then Helena pushed her away.  "Go shower.  You don't have to search to find me, tonight."

Helena drifted in and out of sleep as she waited for Myka to return, at moments almost convinced that it was a dream.  Despite several hours of exhausted sleep before Myka’s midnight arrival, the quiet of the night and the rhythmic fall of the water threatened to fully pull her back under.

When Myka finally returned, wrapped in the hotel bathrobe, Helena’s mind leapt to the conclusion that this visit must be a dream, because how could Myka look as beautiful as she did right then?  But when she slipped off the robe and slid under the covers, her legs tangling with Helena's and their faces only inches apart, Helena didn’t question the reality of the sensation.

Instead, Helena traced the side of her face, her fingers stretching to reach the wet hair, and then her thumb tracing the lips in front of her.  "How is it that I'm so lucky to have you lying here?"

"It's a gift," Myka murmured before kissing Helena's thumb, and then curling her own hand around Helena's.  "A teleportation artefact, approved by the Regents, to be used just the once.  I'll be pulled back at sunrise."

Helena's face must have betrayed her confusion, because then Myka continued softly, "It's Valentine's Day – even if we only get the morning."  She then brought Helena's hand back to her mouth and kissed her knuckles slowly, then the tops of each finger, and Helena couldn't contain a happy sigh.

"There are so many things I want to say, with you beside me," Helena whispered. "I feel the same way I did when our love was new.  I can barely believe that you are here, that we have this moment between us, and that it will be over so soon."

Helena felt Myka's hands playing with her hair, and Helena cupped Myka's face before continuing.  "In instances like this, my desire to master time is forcefully rekindled.  I feel a deep yearning to make this moment last forever, to tell the stars to keep shining, and demand that the world stop spinning, if only to spend another moment with you."

Helena had seen before the look that Myka was giving her – the one that she could only describe as pure love.  Helena felt Myka's fingers tracing her face, mirroring Helena's movements from just moments before, but then letting them travel further, mapping out her jaw line, and her collar bones, and then letting her thumb rest on Helena's pulse point.

Helena knew that Myka didn't need to pause there to know how fast her heart was beating; Myka didn't need to look into her eyes to see the desire there.  She knew that Myka didn't need her voice to crack or to hear her quiet confessions in the moonlight, but Helena couldn't stop them all the same.

When Myka spoke, Helena didn't need to be looking at her to know there was flirty smile tugging at her lips.  "A night like this hasn't come along in so long and all you want to do is talk?"

Myka had the continued the movement of her hands, and Helena felt her entire body shifting closer, her face burrowing into the soft space in Myka's neck. She planted soft kisses upward until her lips were next to Myka's ears.  "No," she finally murmured.

"I'm going to turn time off," she whispered, capturing Myka's lobe between her teeth and giving it a tug that was no less clear in its intent for being gentle.  "And then I'm going to turn you on."


End file.
